Drunk like Black
by Pyro Symptoms Unleashed
Summary: Ginny Weasley is a fully accomplished healer, a young 27yearold veteran from the war with Voldemort, and an experienced Order member. So, someone explain, why does a drunk Sirius Black crash on her couch once a week? And what is he trying to tell her?


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I know, I know. Holy shite. I'm back. And not dead. But warning: this is a one-shot and I'm too busy to work on anything longer than one-shots. So, any multi-chaptered stories are on semi-permanent hiatus (yeah, you tell me the plural of hiatus without checking until further notice. And, I'm writing this because poor sodding Sirius is gay in so many fanfics and I love his character so much I had to let him have a little heterosexual action. Nothing's wrong with being gay, and it's not like this does his character any justice, but I don't see any other sodding author under this penname, so shut it. Umm, yeah, the characters are a bit out of character and it's a bit AU and it's really post-Hogwarts, but I had nothing better to do at one in the morning since my room's already clean. Well, here it is. Huzzah.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine unless it's not J.K.Rowling's.

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Two things surprised Ginny Weasley when she opened her front door. 1) The person slumped on the doorstep was Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and 2) the hammering she'd mistaken for knocking had actually been the thudding of skull-on-door. Sirius' skull, to be precise. Behind Sirius' rather disheveled form stood Remus Lupin, hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking appropriately sheepish.

"Miss Weasley, might you-" he began, only to have the door slammed in his face. Rather, in Sirius' face, to be precise. A faint "_sod off_" echoed from the other side of the door. Remus sighed and nudged Sirius with the tip of his shoe. Sirius slumped forward, head-butting the door in his drunken, semi-conscious state.

Ginny, halfway back into the kitchen, whirled, going into Molly-mode, and stomped towards the door, picking up her wand as she gained momentum.

Remus, sober and relatively quick with his reflexes, jumped back as the door flung open to reveal a flushed-faced, angry Ginny Weasley. Sirius, who could have lost a game of Exploding Snap to a pile of dragon dung at that precise, inebriated moment, fell forward at Ginny's feet. She registered faint disgust before kicking him off and turning to glare at Remus.

"You-" she began, pointing her wand at her previous Defense Against Dark Arts teacher and, more recently, fellow Order member, "-this is the last drunk you deposit on my doorstep," she warned. "Especially Sirius. I will not be nursing him back to health every time you trick him into getting unbelievably pissed and divulging his deepest, darkest secrets. You, Remus Lupin, are going to have to find alternative means of entertainment."

At least Remus had the decency to look mildly ashamed of himself before disapparating. He also resisted reminding the fiery-haired harpy that nursing was, indeed, her professed profession.

Ginny let the door swing shut with a satisfying thud before she remembered that Sirius was still halfway through it. She resigned herself to another night playing dodge-the-sick and set about trying to make his nose sit straight on his face again.

* * *

Ginny's couch had, upon her acquisition of it, become a crash-spot for travel-weary Harry, Ron-wearied Hermione, dish-washing-wearied Ron, crash-wary Tonks, Fred when he pissed Angelina off, George when he pissed Alicia off, Sirius when he got pissed up, and on occasion, Ginny herself, exhausted from dealing with aforementioned weary piss-pots.

However, due to Remus' occupational scarcity and lack of amusing friends, Sirius frequently woke up, hung-over, staring into the olive-colored fabric of Molly Weasley's youngest offspring's couch. Sometimes he didn't immediately fall off.

Today was not going to be one of those days.

In her adjacent bedroom, Ginny was awakened to the familiar thump of Sirius' body hitting her hardwood floor. The familiarity of the situation might have lead her to put a cushioning spell on the floor beneath him, or a binding spell to prevent him from falling off, but then she'd be without something to smirk into her pillow about in the morning.

Muttering to himself back in the living room, Sirius sat up and glanced about. "Tea?" he called, knowing perfectly well where he was and that Ginny was now awake and smirking into her pillow.

"Make it yourself," her voice called from the bedroom. He could tell she was smirking as he stood unsteadily and staggered into her small kitchen. Molly hated the kitchen. Far too small and not enough wooden spoons. Then again, Ginny didn't have six sons, a husband, and random visitors to physically reprimand, either, so she had a rather limited need for wooden spoons. Sirius noted, with a wry countenance, that Ginny had left both tea and hangover potion on the counter for him.

* * *

Twenty-three minutes later…

* * *

"You're hopeless, you know that, right?" Ginny asked as she pulled a robe on over a white nightgown. Sirius was poking at the teakettle halfheartedly by now, which was continually admonishing him and yelling instructions on how to perform a simple heating spell. With a flick and a swish of her hand, Ginny's teakettle spurted steam and whistled in appreciation of the correct use of magic.

Sirius resigned himself to sitting at the kitchen counter and arguing with his teacup over his magical abilities while Ginny poured his tea and mixed in hangover potion. He took a sip gingerly and grimaced, esophagus suffering second-degree burns.

"Heating spells usually make things hot, Sirius," Ginny stated, blowing at the steaming liquid in her own cup. Sirius glared at her, wondering what he had done in a previous life to get himself tangled up with Ginny Weasley every week or so. He couldn't help wondering, as well, just how he came to be so comfortable in the presence of a female some twenty years his junior.

Ginny set her cup down with a sigh as a knock resounded throughout the house. "Come in, Remus," she called, the bolt on the lock in the next room retreating with a wave of her wand. The door opened, followed by a loud thud. Ginny perked up immensely. "Wotcher, Tonks," she called, seconds before a magenta disaster barreled into the room, fighting what had apparently been a raincoat at one time.

With a bit of help, the unfortunate witch managed to disentangle herself from the mess she'd gotten herself into, set the kitchen back in order, and apologize to Sirius for accidentally kicking him in the kneecap.

"Wotcher, Ginny," she finally replied, giving the red-headed witch a clumsy half-salute, half-wave that managed to elbow an ill-fated shelf off the wall.

* * *

Twelve minutes, sixteen seconds later…

* * *

"Right, before you break anymore of Sirius' bones, won't you have a seat, Tonks?" Ginny asked, amused, and fearing for the life of her coffee mugs. Tonks smiled apologetically as she sat. "Sorry, Gin; I'm just as bad sitting as standing, though."

Sirius muttered something that sounded vaguely sarcastic, so Ginny flicked him behind the ear, sending him into a fit of seizure-looking spazzes. Tonks snorted into her indestructible plastic mug. "You know you two act like an old married couple?"

Ginny and Sirius slowly turned to look at her in horror, Ginny's hand retreating from behind Sirius' ear. Tonks glanced at them and shrugged. "Or not."

Ginny edged away from the older man. "Or not."

* * *

Exactly one week later…

* * *

"Miss Weas- oh, sod it-Ginny! Please open the door!" Remus called, banging on the door resolutely. "In all fairness, he's only mildly sloshed this time," he explained through the wood.

The door opened. "Then why can't he just go home?" Ginny asked, standing there in Charlie's old pajamas. Remus sighed. "Your mum's still staying at Grimauld Place until Harry's better and you know what she's like."

Ginny sighed. She did indeed know about Molly's stance on drunken behavior. Ever since Fred's embarrassingly smashed appearance two Christmases ago. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been relatively dressed. As it was, Angelina had to Apparate over to get him, since he was far too drunk (naked as he was, he'd accidentally apparated into two wrong houses trying to get to the Burrow, and had splinched a rather important bit of himself off on some poor old witch's living room floor) and Ron and Hermione had to explain the dangers of Firewhiskey to their five-year old.

"Fine," Ginny finally relented, opening the door further. Sirius, an obnoxiously happy drunk, stumbled into her, nearly bowling her over. Struggling to keep the taller, heavier man on his feet, Ginny managed an impressive glare over his shoulder at Remus. "Whatever blackmail material you're getting from these drinking experiences had better be worth it," she warned. Remus gave her an odd smile, one that Ginny might have expected from Dumbledore. "Oh, believe me, it is," he said, disapparating before Ginny could question him further.

Closing the door, Ginny staggered back as Sirius shifted to look at her. He grinned and situated himself back on his own two legs. "Morning, Ginevra," he said jovially. Ginny scowled and pointed to the couch. Sirius glanced at it and shook his head. "I'm not drunk enough to sleep yet," he protested.

Ginny's eye had developed a tic. "Can't you sleep without being drunk?" she asked, arms crossing over her chest.

"No."

She growled something unintelligible as she stormed into her bedroom, following her cursing with a terse "_good-night_" before she slammed the door behind her. Or would have, had Sirius' foot not been in the way.

She whirled and glared. "What now?"

She didn't like a serious look in his eyes as he stared down at her from his elevated height. Sometimes it wasn't all that helpful being five foot seven inches short. "I wanted to say something," he said, pausing uncertainly. Ginny nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, and indeed, showed no signs of doing so anytime soon, she smiled tightly at him. "Right. Well, I hope that goes well for you. Bed-time," she said, pressing her palm against his stomach to push him out of her doorframe.

Trained healer as she was, she was not expecting him to grasp her wrist in his larger hand. For the first time being alone with this older man, a convicted criminal, she felt a sharp stab of fear race through her. However, instead of striking at her chest and sending her into a cold panic, this sensation, that for all her studies she couldn't describe, pooled in her stomach and jelled, emitting a soft pulse.

And yet, the hold Sirius had on her wrist was gentle, for a supposed drunk. And she didn't reach for her wand. Instead she found her mouth dry and her body slack, yet coiled with a tension she was uncertain of how to liberate.

Sirius' eyes, set deep in his face, seemed deeper, darker, _blacker_, as his gaze touched hers, and created a tentative connection. To keep from thinking things she had thought before…things she shouldn't…Ginny blinked, pulled her gaze away. "You wanted to say something?" she reminded him. Reminded herself. There was a reason he was holding onto her, she reminded herself.

Sirius blinked in her peripheral vision, but didn't let go of her wrist. Instead, his index finger drew slowly across the soft white skin on the inside of the wrist in his hand. Only years of steeling herself from expression emotion (as a healer working around all sorts of chaos, as a member of the Order and participant in the war against Voldemort) kept her eyes from fluttering and her knees from shaking.

"I wanted to say," he said, pausing to clear his throat, which sounded gravelly and rough. "I wanted to…thank you…for putting me up for the night," he finished. Ginny arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's it?" she asked, a bit incredulously. She knew she should be relieved, because for about thirty seconds she'd thought he was going to say something in his drunken state about suppressed feelings or sexual desires. And now that he hadn't, she found herself, against all her better instincts, wishing that he had.

She shook her head slowly, to buy her time to reorient herself. "Well, I've put up with you so far…" she began, but felt something bubbling up in her chest, fighting her nonchalant attitude and downplaying of her situation and location. It almost hurt.

And before she could regain control of her senses, or in fact, her body, Ginny felt her arms winding up Sirius' and wrapping themselves around his neck as she pressed her lips to his insistently.

* * *

Six seconds later…

* * *

Everything was still. Ginny had pulled away, her hand over her mouth, her fingers pushing down on her lips, as if trying to hold the feel of his lips there. Not soft. Pliant, but rough more than anything. It hadn't stopped the thrilling rush of electric magic from running down Ginny's spine.

Sirius was staring down at her, mouth hanging slightly ajar, eyes not so clouded with drink as they had been a few seconds ago. He was still in her doorway, though now he was hanging onto the doorframe and practically dangling into her room. Just a step away, Ginny couldn't help but think.

"Ginny," Sirius whispered, swallowing. "I wanted to say…" he began, his eyes still wide, locked on her lips. Ginny cut him off. "Sod that," she hissed, reaching up to pull his face down to hers. This time Sirius didn't allow his shock to hold him captive. As Ginny's arms wrapped around his neck, his arms wrapped around her waist, his height pulling her up off the ground as he returned her fervent kisses, dangerously close to believing he was dreaming again.

Ginny could feel her cheeks heating up. She was kissing Sirius Black. And that was as far as her thought process went. Because she discovered that she loved kissing him more than she liked thinking, and thus devoted all of her energy to doing just that.

Inebriated though he was, Sirius couldn't help but feel a slight tug of the guilt that had stopped him from expressing his desire for her earlier. She was just so young. It didn't help that she was small enough for him to practically pick up like a child, despite her twenty-seven years of age. Nor did it help that she was Molly Weasley's only daughter.

Somehow, with incredible willpower, he managed to pull away from her. "Wait, Ginny, I don't want you to-" he was cut off as Ginny covered his mouth with hers. "Fucking hell, Sirius," she whispered a bit breathlessly against his lips a few seconds later, "will you just stop talking already?"

This, coupled with his need for her and the fact that she wasn't drunk and had instigated all this snogging stuff, fueled his passion, and within minutes he had her pressed up against a wall, kissing his way down her shoulder. Ginny mumbled something incoherent as his hips pressed firmly against hers, his hands pulling her legs up around him. She pulled his lips to crash down on hers as her need to have him closer to her, more of her, a part of her, increased.

"Sirius," Ginny gasped as his hand palmed her breast rather zealously. He looked up at her, pupils dilated and blackened with lust and something a bit lighter, and she surprised herself with her next words. "I-I want you."

From the bulge growing under his robes, it would seem he rather wanted her as well.

"Alright, then," Sirius murmured, grasping her under her thighs and lifting her up and onto her bed.

* * *

Sirius was unaccustomed to waking up in Ginny's house and not falling flat on his face. Or being prodded awake by the pointy end of her wand. As it was, waking up with a smooth, bare back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around a small, lithe, naked body, his face cushioned by smooth red hair….well, it was a rather pleasanter way of greeting the day.

Sirius had long imagined…fantasized might be a better word…what it might be like to do what he and Ginny had done throughout the night. Therefore, he'd also put a smidgen of thought into what it might be like to wake up next to her. He was, thus, surprised at the absolute absence of remorse he felt as he hugged her body closer to his, basking in the satiated, relieved, peaceful state of his body and mind.

Eventually Ginny began to stir, waking naturally as opposed to being woken by the thud of Sirius rolling off the couch. Sirius winced as he felt her give a small start at the feel of rough hands at her waist and stomach. However, any trepidation he might have had disappeared as she rolled over, glorious even though mostly covered by sheets, and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Good morning," she yawned, settling on his chest. Sirius' heart gave a strange leap as he sighed, wrapping his arms around her protectively…or possessively, he wasn't really sure. He just knew that this was better than anything he could have ever fantasized. He felt ten years younger, and more alive than he'd felt since his Marauder days. He was thankful he hadn't acted on his yearning for the youngest Weasley before; this moment, those circumstances leading to this moment…couldn't possibly be more perfect.

He didn't even mind that he was being inwardly sappy.

One of his hands was winding locks of flaming red hair around his fingers absent-mindedly, marveling at the light and dark shades when she rolled her head up to look at him.

"Sirius?" she asked, gaining his attention. His face was a pleasantly relaxed picture of contentment. "Hmm?" he rumbled, humming under Ginny's fingers on his chest. She smiled softly at him. "I'm glad Remus gets you drunk," she admitted, tracing invisible figures on his chest with her fingertips.

Sirius tried to concentrate on her words, which was difficult, as her proximity and the soft feel of her fingers on his coarse, hair-sprinkled skin was creating some morning motion under the covers down south.

"Remus had nothing to do with it," he confessed, grinning like a true Marauder. Ginny stilled her hand and lifted her head to stare at him at eye-level. "But…" she trailed, pausing to think, "…then you...?" she stopped, connecting the dots. "You got yourself drunk," she stated.

"Yes."

"With Remus' help."

"Yes."

"So you could come here."

"Yes."

"Because you knew I'd let you."

"Yes."

"So you could see me."

"Yes."

"And end up in my bed."

"No."

Ginny cocked her head, her expression doubtful.

"Well, only when I was drunk enough to let my imagination get the better of me," Sirius explained.

"I'm not complaining, Sirius," Ginny assured him, basked in the same comfortable glow he was. She smacked his arm. "I just wish you would have said something sooner." He eyed her in surprise as she leaned in for a thorough snog.

"I've fancied you for years," she whispered, her hand slipping under the covers to do a bit of undercover mischief. Sirius swallowed heavily, his eyes slipping shut. "Well, then," he said, his voice uneven as he pulled her mouth to his. "I believe we have a few years to make up for, then," he said, kissing along her jaw. Ginny smiled under his touch. "Best get started immediately, don't you think?" she asked, gasping as his lips traveled down her neck and his hand moved even further down.

"I do indeed," Sirius groaned, just as a loud bang sounded throughout the house, followed by the shrill, excited voice that could only belong to Molly Weasley.

"Ginny! Where are you? Harry's finally better! Ginny?"

* * *

Two hours later…

* * *

Ginny slumped onto the couch. "Well, at least you haven't broken anything," she said, turning to look at Sirius. "And the swelling should go down in a few hours."

Sirius groaned, gingerly touching the bruise rising on his cheek. "Where did she even find a wooden spoon?" he asked. Ginny shook her head. "I have no idea; she's mum, isn't that explanation enough?"

Sirius nodded. "At least I'm not dead," he mused. Ginny chuckled. "Well," Sirius said, getting to his feet with a slightly pained grunt, "I think that's the end of our romantic morning," he said, sounding slightly disappointed.

Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him down on top of her. "Hardly," she said, kissing him soundly. "Or not," Sirius mumbled. "Damn right," Ginny mumbled, her hands buried in his thick black hair. "After all, what kind of healer would I be if I let an injured wizard apparate off without examining him…fully?" she asked, her hands already beginning their examination already.

Sirius smiled as he rumbled his approval into her throat as he kissed his way down to her shoulder. "I could get used to this," he mumbled into her skin. Ginny grinned. "You'd better, Sirius Black, you'd better."


End file.
